Progenies of the Jabberwock
by Unit 667 Ra
Summary: "Do you not know what happens to those who drink the blood of the Jabberwock?"
1. The Beginning

**Title: **Progenies of the Jabberwock  
**Rating: **T, PG-13, whatev.  
**Summary: **"Do you not know what happens to those who drink the blood of the Jabberwock?"  
**Warning(s): **Eventually will contain, among other things, slight femmeslash and shameless references to _Shadow of the Colossus_.

**Note:** "Progeny" _n, pl_ **-ies:** Offspring, children, descendants.

* * *

**I: The Beginning**

_Damn back._

Alice would begin her mornings for the past few days cursing the sudden shot of pain in her spine whenever she tried rising from bed. At first it was just a few dull aches, but now it elevated to an aggrivating pins-and-needles sensation. Running fingers through her tussled hair, she thought about the time that passed since her return, in search of a possible cause for her back problems (which was a conundrum itself, considering she didn't partake in especially strenuous activities). There was that time she was sparring with Tarrant, but he was extremely careful to never harm her. What about the day she reclaimed her duty as Champion? Nothing happened then either, though Alice did have to mask a wince when standing from a kneel before Mirana. Or the day before that when Mirana revealed her own dark secrets or the day before that…

Nothing stood out in her mind. Besides, Alice was never one to slouch or hunch or anything else that might have caused her new back problems. But now wasn't the time to be pondering it, as she was visiting Tarrant's workshop, and decided she might go consult Mirana about it after she was done… whatever it was she was doing. Something to do with the healing arts, Alice figured.

She snapped back to reality since Tarrant had finished making a hat for her (a blue and silver hound's-tooth knit fedora to match her favorite tie) and promptly placed it on her head. Tarrant then spun Alice's chair around so she could view herself in the mirror. The fedora's brim framed her face nicely. Tarrant studied her reflection, pursed his lips, adjusted the fedora so that it tilted slightly to the right side of the blonde's face, and made a noise of approval.

"Eh… I like it!"

"It's a perfect fit," Alice grinned.

"Still much work to be done yet," said Tarrant, returning to his pile of hatting paraphernalia. "We managed to retrieve some of the hats I made in Salazen Grum for reuse here, such a waste of good hats otherwise, you know, and I still need to work on a hat for Chessur." Not missing a beat, Tarrant removed his top hat and shifted his eyes around his workshop suspiciously. No doubt he was making a hat for Chessur if only to stop the great tabby furball from _leering_ at his beloved hat so much.

Alice had a chuckle at the way Tarrant protectively cradled his hat. She motioned to stand from her chair when she seized up slightly, a low hiss escaping her clenched teeth. Tarrant looked at her in concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"My back," Alice said. She reached a hand back to rub her shoulder blades. "It's been hurting for a few days now. I think I fell on my back when I returned."

Oddly, Alice _knew_ she didn't land on her back when she fell through the looking-glass in her bedroom; she'd landed face-down, just like the last time.

"Would a massage help?" a soothing voice purred, and Chessur misted into the room. "It won't do for our Champion to suffer a bad back."

"I was actually planning to see Mirana about that. Do you know where she is?"

"If I recall, she's down in the dungeons examining one of the dearly departed," Chessur's expression grew solemn as his head swam through the air. "Poor thing was quite young."

Alice blinked at the mental image of the White Queen performing an autopsy. Dominion over the Dead, she reminded herself.

* * *

Late that afternoon, after Mirana was finished examining the corpse of one of her recently departed courtiers (apparently the cause of death was two eight-inch long pieces of corset steel lodged in the girl's heart due to obsessive tight lacing), washed, and changed into her usual white gown, she found Alice standing incredibly stiffly with her back to the wall near her chamber. Her brow was furrowed in a grimace and there were dark circles under her eyes.

"Alice?" Mirana said. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm having back troubles." The response was slightly strained. "I was hoping you could take a look when you have the time."

"I have time now."

"But didn't you just finish something important?"

"It's fine, Alice. I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing something pains my Champion."

Alice's cheeks colored at Mirana's affectionate words. The pale queen extended a hand and she took it, the two walking into Alice's quarters, though Alice made a small grunt of pain when she moved from her spot against the wall. Mirana turned to examine Alice's armor while the blonde rather bashfully began undoing the top of her dress.

"Where does it hurt? How badly?" Mirana asked.

"Er, around my shoulders and a little lower... It almost feels like I'm being stuck with tiny pins and needles."

Her torso exposed and her back to Mirana, Alice climbed onto the bed and lay on her stomach. The White Queen noted how more... _toned_Alice was compared to her last visit to Underland. Evidently, Alice must have been quite busy during the two years on the upside world since the Frabjous Day. Leaving her thoughts, Mirana worked her fingers with precision, stroking and kneading every ache in Alice's back, save for one. Alice sighed into the covers; if it weren't for her back, Mirana's gentle ministrations certainly would have lulled her into a deep sleep. Once Mirana reached the shoulder blades, though, she stopped all movements and furrowed her brow. Alice tried not to flinch when Mirana's fingers investigated that one area.

"Curious," Mirana murmured to no one in particular.

"What is it?" Alice's voice was muffled by the covers, but her concern was clear as day. "I didn't break anything in my back, did I?"

"No, dear, I don't think anything is broken. It's just..."

"What? What's wrong?"

"I'm... not certain." Mirana winced at the hiss Alice bit back when she prodded at the spot. "Unless I'm mistaken, there's a sort of..." Mirana groped for the right wording, "...growth. It feels as though you have a growth of some kind in your back."

"A _growth?_" Alice nearly shot up, but the stab of pain in her back and Mirana's hands kept her down, so she craned her neck around to look at the queen. "Are you certain?"

"Honestly, no." Mirana looked quite baffled by now. She raised her hands to shoulder level, flicking her fingers in thought. "I have heard of some insects implanting eggs in specific prey, but I don't think it could be that..."

Alice stared at her in horror and felt vaguely nauseous. The last thing she needed was a herd of horseflies popping out of her back. As if to mock her worries, the pins and needles stabbed at the small of her back the same way they did whenever she tried sleeping on her stomach. Mirana's hands descended on her again in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

"I have an ointment in the kitchen that may help," Mirana offered.

Alice buried her face in the covers, the pins and needles not done with their torture. "Yes, please." She managed to keep her voice level, but in her mind she was on all fours begging for the pain to just _stop, for the love of God!_

"I'll only be a moment." Mirana walked— _glided_, rather— to the door, but twirled around when she heard the young Champion calling her name.

Alice watched Mirana from the bed and said in a small voice, "Thank you." Though it may have been a trick of the light, Mirana could swear Alice's brown eyes appeared almost red in the setting sun reflecting off the walls.


	2. A Violent Encounter

**II: A Violent Encounter**

Though the therapeutic heat emitting from the ointment applied to her back was helpful it did little to ease Alice's pains, which after three days had spread to her hands and feet. She would even feel aching pulses in her teeth and almost always felt a headache coming on. On the fourth day Alice decided to have a ride with the Bandersnatch, partly to explore the fantastical world of her childhood adventures and partly to keep her mind off the pain in her back (and hands and feet and teeth and headaches). The Bandersnatch been given free reign to roam across Underland as he saw fit, but like any loyal friend he would come running when Alice called.

However it seemed she wouldn't be alone, as a little bird— _dormouse_, she corrected herself with a grin— told her that Tarrant would be coming along for the ride. So here she was waiting for the Bandersnatch outside Marmoreal's gates with aforementioned dormouse, Tarrant, and his own mount for the day, a stallion named Agro.

"I bet the Queen asked him to come," Mallymkun remarked as she grabbed the hem of Alice's dress and began climbing up.

"Not to sound ungrateful, but I should be able to take care of myself by now," Alice said, fingering the hilt of the sword strapped to her hip. She didn't even need to see Mallymkun roll her eyes when she forced a grunt back into her throat. Besides, it wasn't as if Alice didn't enjoy Tarrant's company; he was like a brother to her.

"Stubborn one," Agro observed.

"He is, isn't he?" Tarrant nodded in agreement.

Alice silently wondered when the hatter started referring to her with masculine pronouns.

A familiar roar reached their ears and Alice responded by putting her fingers to her lips and whistling shrilly. The Bandersnatch came bounding down the road leading to the castle and skidded to a halt before Alice. She greeted him by taking the sides of his head between her hands, placing her own head against his, and shaking him back and forth, all the while calling him silly pet names as if the great beast were a giant puppy. The Bandersnatch was equally pleased to see her and let out a soft, playful growl.

Mallymkun on the other hand was clinging to the back of Alice's dress for dear life, for the blonde's antics nearly threw her to the ground. She mumbled curses under her breath while situating herself on Alice's shoulder.

"He doesn't eat horses, does he?" Agro eyed the Bandersnatch, nervously pawing the ground.

"I don't think he does." Tarrant blinked and looked at Alice. "_Does_ he eat horses?"

Alice shrugged. "If so, then he doesn't find Agro particularly appetizing." The Bandersnatch seemed to huff out in distaste, followed by Alice exclaiming, "God! You can all but speak!"

Agro was about to make a witty retort when Tarrant mounted him.

"Come, come! We won't get any riding done if we continue standing around killing time, and I can safely say that Time will be most displeased by the very idea."

* * *

It wasn't until Agro and the Bandersnatch made a sudden stop on a path leading west when Alice began to notice a sort of stir in the land around them. The whole forest seemed to speak of it. All the squabbling horseflies and dragonflies were in hiding, the birds had gone silent, the flowers appeared to have shrunk into the earth, and the very wind whispered of a nameless animosity.

The Bandersnatch's gait became tense with caution and his spotted hair bristled on end. Agro in particular appeared hesitant to go any further. Even Mallymkun brandished the pin at her waist. Once again Alice felt the pins and needles in her back, and her hands began to shake terribly.

"This's nae good," Tarrant growled, slipping into his Outlandish brogue. "We best be ging back tae Marmoreal."

"Shouldn't we go see what's going on?" Alice asked.

"It doesn't feel like the old bloody bighead's playing cards are afoot," Agro grunted. "Sure, everyone runs away when they show up, but _this_…"

The stallion had a point. Alice recalled that the Red Knights weren't exactly subtle in looking for innocents to terrorize back when Iracebeth was in power. But still, hadn't she made a vow to serve in war and peace just days ago? Coming to a decision, Alice comfortingly stroked the Bandersnatch's fur and he seemed to get the idea.

"What're you doing?" Mallymkun hissed in her ear. "You don't even know what's happening! What if it's…? I dunno, what if another Jabberwock's sprung up? I don't see the Vorpal Sword on you!"

For some reason, Alice instinctively knew that wasn't the case. "So I'm going to find out what it is."

"Alice—"

"Whatever it is, I'm sure we can handle it."

Tarrant didn't share her sentiment. Now that Mallymkun brought up the possibility of a reborn Jabberwock (which as far as he knew wasn't unheard of), the last thing he needed was to lose Underland's Champion and the closest thing to a sister he'd had since the Horunvendush Day… but when Alice looked at him with that iron will to protect Underland in those eyes, he found it difficult to refuse her.

Though oppressed with a sense of ill will in the air, they proceeded down the path with greater caution. Soon they came across a clearing Tarrant knew all too well; they were heading straight toward the ruins of his old tea party spot with Thackery, and what bothered him even more was the absence of music from his old phonograph. Alice and the Bandersnatch hurried on until the broken down windmill came into view, Tarrant and Agro trotting just behind them. From the windmill came a faint noise of chatter and… clockwork?

Suddenly Alice convulsed so violently her companions thought she was having a seizure. She clutched her head, which felt ready to split apart, with a twitchy hand. Pins and needles were spreading to nearly every inch of her being, and it was very nearly driving her mad.

Even if some hostile force was invading, she was in no state to fight.

"Mally," she began, her breathing suddenly labored, "I need you to scout ahead. We'll leave for Marmoreal once you return."

"Alice, you look terrible. Is the pain getting worse?"

_I feel like I'm being torn apart from the inside-out._

"Please, just hurry." Tears were starting to form in Alice's bloodshot eyes and cold sweat cascaded from her brow.

Without another word Mallymkun scurried to the ground and went ahead alone. Crawling through the grass on all fours, she reached the windmill and peered at the overturned tables, silverware and shards of broken cups and saucers scattered all over, and what she saw made the hair on her neck and shoulders stand on end.

"The Knave," she whispered to herself in shock.

Indeed it was the very same Ilosovic Stayne who'd been banished to the Outlands, but he almost didn't look like how she remembered him. He appeared even taller than before, his limbs having grown to an almost spidery length, his attire reduced to tattered rags stained with dried blood, and his face was so pale it reminded her of a corpse. Surrounding him were figures the likes of which Mallymkun had never seen before; lumbering humanoid creatures that resembled a union of flesh and clockwork. One of them she could swear had blades for arms.

Mallymkun didn't even stay to find out _what_ the Knave of Hearts was doing here or even where the former Red Queen was in all this. Instead she rushed back to inform Alice and Tarrant in the hopes that they could all return to Marmoreal post haste and relay this grim news to the White Queen, but a sound cut through the air and stopped the dormouse dead in their tracks; a thud, a cry of pain, and Tarrant calling Alice's name.

What followed was a sound both familiar and foreign, reminding Mallymkun of a blunt knife struggling to _force_ open meat rather than slice. Mallymkun by now had scrambled back to the others, finding Tarrant and Agro and the Bandersnatch a good distance away from the young Champion collapsed on the ground.

Alice rose to her knees and stared at her hands with an expression akin to horror. Before all their eyes her hands were turning a dark grayish color, her fingers extending into long black claws. The very sound of her skin, muscle, and bones stretching made Tarrant's blood run cold, but it paled in comparison to the long, high-pitched wail escaping Alice's mouth. Suddenly her feet could be seen growing longer, ripping her shoes apart at the seams, all the while Alice's cries growing louder, each one becoming more guttural and agonized. Propping herself on her hands for balance, she felt the pain in her back, the pins and needles growing into knives and swords, reach a point where she could no longer stand it and let out a _shriek,_ like a devil screaming.

It culminated into Alice throwing her upper body back, a deafening **_schhhhRRRRRIPK!_** echoing throughout the plains. Bat-like wings spread out from Alice's back, caked in blood, and goat-like horns sprouted from her skull. Alice forced herself to her feet in a feral stance and stared through eyes red with blood and fire.


	3. Bloodcurse

**III: Bloodcurse **

Tarrant never thought he would see the White Queen get angry.

Not that she was outright angry, of course, but she was certainly giving him the most terrifying look he'd ever been on the receiving end of. It was the kind of look that could scare a _rock_. He didn't blame her for being angry, of course, considering a tattered and emaciated Knave was rotting in the dungeons only the White Queen had access to, not to mention Alice…

"Tarrant." Mirana's voice seemed to crack him back to the present like a whip.

"Ah— Highness," Tarrant stammered.

"What happened?"

Tarrant briefly wondered if asking those two innocuous words in such a tone, in a velvety voice dripping with fear and something else that he couldn't quite place (something _dark_), might cause the listener to suffer a heart attack.

Shaking the thought from his head, he opened his mouth to recount the events earlier that day.

* * *

_At first Alice appeared to be in shock. She stood on her newly clawed toes, knees bent, shoulders hunched, wings drooping to the grass, her skin tone having turned a dark purplish-black. She whimpered with each labored breath, red eyes just staring up ahead at nothing, looking very much like a frightened animal. Blood dripped from her mouth, wings, and horns._

_Just then the Knave and his minions made their presence known; after all there was no way they couldn't have heard the racket that just went on. Alice whirled around in a start, eyes wild with fear._

_Stayne said something— Tarrant couldn't hear from where he was standing, perhaps because the Knave was speaking in a near-whisper— along the lines of, "Seize her. Kill the others."_

_Alice seemed to still have her wits about her and lowered herself on all fours, curling her upper lip back in a snarl. She let out a few bark-like yelps when Stayne's clockwork servants closed in on her. The one with blades on its forearms stalked towards Tarrant and Mallymkun, snipping the blades across one another like scissors. Something inside Alice suddenly snapped and the dragon in her roared. She lunged at the thing with a fury that surprised everyone, Tarrant especially, for he knew Alice wasn't violent by nature (despite her fierce temper)._

_Somehow Alice managed to avoid the blades as she tackled the thing to the ground and began punching at it furiously. The others (four of them) circled the two in a square formation, watching them tumble, Alice snapping her jaws like a demon and the bladed one slashing her arms and shoulders._

_The Bandersnatch was the first to recover from his shock and charged forward, throwing two clockwork servants aside and sinking his teeth into the third. A crunch of bones and gears shattering echoed in the air and the third creature was cleaved messily in half. Black blood oozed from the Bandersnatch's mouth and he spat his kill out in disgust. His long tail slammed into one of the servants struggling to its feet, crushing it under the weight of his tail. Tarrant moved next, pulling out a pair of scissors from his pocket and sprang onto the fourth servant, plunging his weapon into the nape of its neck._

_By now Alice had wrestled her opponent's arms to its sides and rushed for the throat, mustering enough bite force to break the servant's neck. The victory was short-lived, however, as a blade cut down her back, still tender from her wings sprouting from the inside-out. Alice cried in pain, and Stayne readied his sword for another swing. He didn't expect Alice to spin around and pounce, fangs cutting off both his attack and his hand. The longsword slipped from the fingers of his lost hand and fell to the grass. Stayne gazed at the bloody stump where his hand used to be and looked at Alice._

_She was virtually unrecognizable, standing on all fours, streaming with blood and sweat, hair in disarray, a bloody hand in her mouth, face contorted in a mask of fury, and eyes wide and mad with feral rage. Spitting the hand to the ground, Alice made to pounce once more but was struck mid-leap from behind, effectively knocking her out._

* * *

In hindsight, maybe smacking Alice upside the head with the butt of Stayne's sword was a bit much.

Mirana's fingers fluttered in thought, as if she were playing an invisible piano. Alice had turned into some kind of draconic… creature, the Knave had escaped from the Outlands and apparently had made some friends, but where was Iracebeth in all this? After nearly losing herself to _herself_ just days before, this was the last thing Mirana needed.

_Deal with the Knave later_, she told herself. _See to Alice first_.

"Have some Knights guard the Knave," she said at last. "Alice is in the north tower, correct?"

"Yes," Tarrant squeaked, still looking quite scared.

Realizing she still spoke with a vague anger in her voice, Mirana inwardly winced. "My apologies, Tarrant, I never meant to frighten you. I'm still recovering from seeing Alice like that."

The hatter heaved out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "I understand, Highness. Will you be seeing to Alice now?"

"Yes."

"Good, that's good, it's important that we see to her health first before interrogating the Knave, not that interrogating him isn't important, but it's better to wait for Alice to recover, the boy did suffer some nasty wounds after all, and—"

"Hatter!" Mirana interrupted.

"Eyes like a monster," Tarrant rasped. "Eyes like… I'm fine."

Mirana had a feeling she knew what he was talking about just now. She was there too that day. Eyes like…

She only hoped they were wrong.

Dismissing Tarrant, Mirana made her way to the north tower, all the while praying that this was all just a bad dream and Iracebeth wasn't involved somehow and Alice wasn't turning into what Mirana feared she was. Moonlight shone through windows up the staircase leading to her Champion.

_I hope I hope I hope I hope…_ the words echoed through her head in an endless mantra until her white hand grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open. She was greeted by Alice's form lying against the wall with a shackle around her neck. Though the blonde's skin tone returned to its natural color, she still retained the horns and wings, and her clawed hands and feet remained black. A long tail seemed to have grown as well while nobody was looking. Even her wounds were healed.

The instant she shut the door behind her, Alice's eyes snapped open.

Whatever hopes Mirana had to see Alice— kind, fiery, brave Alice— awaken from the horror of such a transformation were dashed when the blonde gazed up at her with eyes of flame. Alice, or perhaps the creature she became, shifted around to sit comfortably in an almost doglike fashion despite the shackle around her neck, and regarded Mirana with a strange look in those hellish eyes.

Eyes like…

Everything from this creature's posture to its demeanor made one thing clear; it was _not_ Alice.

"Who are you?" Mirana asked, reminding herself of Absolem's usual greeting.

She certainly didn't expect the noise that issued forth from the creature's mouth. It was a myriad of different voices speaking in tandem and only slightly out of synch, with an echo reverberating from the back of the creature's throat.

"_My name is Legion, for we are many,_" the creature said with a mocking Cheshire grin.

Mirana's dark eyebrow arched slightly, but pressed on. "Where is Alice?"

"_In here_," the creature let a black, clawed hand rest on its breast, "_With us._"

"May I speak with her?"

"_In time._"

Mirana's fingers fluttered, a habit she subconsciously developed that betrayed any feelings of agitation she had. Here she was, worried out of her mind for her Champion's well-being and this draconic-human hybrid was lazing about like Alice was having a perfectly safe stroll through the hedge maze.

It… annoyed her.

"When will she be able to speak with me?"

"_Patience, little Queen,_" the creature chuckled and wagged her (its?) claw in an 'ah-ah-ah' manner, as if chastising a child. "_You can chat with her once she wakes up and we go to rest._"

Its words implied that Alice would be fine upon awakening. Quelling her worries, Mirana decided to further pursue this creature's identity. Now that Mirana could see her, or its, face more clearly she realized it wasn't that Alice's eyes were red, no, they retained their natural brown color, but it was her pupils that glowed with blood and fire, creating the illusion of red eyes in low light.

"I'll ask again: Who are you really?"

It grinned that disconcerting, toothy grin and craned its neck back lazily. The creature recited, "_One, two! One, two! And through and through! The Vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head he came galumphing back._" Once again the creature eyed Mirana. "_Though the little one came galumphing back with more than just a head, wouldn't you agree?_"

Eyes like a monster.

Mirana's breath hitched. "You— you're the Jabberwock?"

"_The Jabberwocks that came before, rather,_" corrected the Jabberwock. "_Do you not know what happens to those who drink the blood of the Jabberwock?_"

"What?" The idea that Alice's body was being hijacked by more than one Jabberwock was making Mirana slightly hysterical.

Jabberwock-Alice (for that was about the only way Mirana could describe her, or it) stared at her for all of three seconds before it burst into uproarious laughter.

"_So the bloody bighead never told anyone else about the bloodcurse! Isn't that like her to keep secrets out of spite, even from her darling sister?_"

Mirana clenched her hands into fists so quickly she heard her knuckles pop, eliciting another chuckle from Jabberwock-Alice.

"_Temper, temper… Were you not supposed to be the benign sister?_"

Throwing any and all desire to strangle the beast to the wind, Mirana relaxed her hands. She took slow breaths to regain her composure before speaking again.

"What did you mean by bloodcurse?" she asked.

"_It is the reason for our existence. Since the advent of the curse, a Champion wielding the Vorpal Sword must step forth and slay us, then drink our blood. The Champion is then spirited away to the upside world until they find a way to return to Underland… and then, they suffer the bloodcurse and become the next Jabberwock, waiting until the day they go to kiss the Vorpal blade._"

Mirana's mind raced at this revelation. Though it certainly explained a few things, such as how another Jabberwock would replace the last over time and the apparent rivalry it had with the Vorpal Sword, but for Alice to become a Jabberwock herself was a thought that chilled her to the bone. While the White Queen mused over this, Jabberwock-Alice amused itself by playing with the chains.

"_In a way, little Queen,_" Jabberwock-Alice said, "_We are immortal. Our ends by the Vorpal blade do not grant freedom to our souls bound by blood, but merely a brief respite. No matter how many times we die, so long as a Champion drinks our blood, we continue to live on in that blood. Like a parasite. That is our bloodcurse; to live forever. At least until the curse is broken._"

"And how does one break the curse?" Mirana asked.

"_One question too many, little Queen, at least for the time being._" Jabberwock-Alice leaned against the wall and closed its eyes. "_The little one will awaken soon, and it is time we took our rest._"

"Wait!" Mirana stepped forward in desperation. "When will you tell me of the bloodcurse?"

"_When the little one has recovered. Then go to our roost deep in the Tulgey Wood. All will be explained then._" Opening one eye a crack, Jabberwock-Alice flashed the Queen a roguish grin. "_Fairfarren, little Queen._"

A moment passed before Jabberwock-Alice was Alice again. She flung herself away from the wall in a fit of terror but the shackle around her neck made her trip to the floor with a yelp. Her eyes were brown again, and she was drenched in a cold sweat.

"Alice!" Mirana lowered herself to her knees beside Alice. "Alice— look at me, Alice— are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Alice opened her mouth, but no words came out. Staring into Mirana's almost black eyes, realization seemed to overwhelm her and tears flooded down her cheeks. Alice finally managed to croak, "Mirana… oh God, Mirana, I… what's happening to me?"


	4. A Tale of Sixteen Sacrifices

**Note 1:** In which liberties are taken with the Sleepy Hollow dead tree near the entrance to Underland.  
**Note 2:** Rushed job is rushed, 'cause I wanted this done before Halloween.

**IV: A Tale of Sixteen Sacrifices**

__

"I forgot my name and all my memories  
My land and my valleys, the beauty of a smile,  
It seems that my life has passed like a dream  
And now all fled, leaving only the lie."  
—Rencontre Avec La Dame, by Artesia (translated from French)

Once Alice had calmed down and learned of what transpired moments before, Mirana removed the shackle from her neck. The blonde remained seated on the floor, staring at her feet and the tears in her dress. Mirana couldn't tell if she was in thought or shock.

"Would you like me to escort you to your room?" she asked.

Alice slowly shook her head.

"There's nothing to worry about. Stayne is held in the dungeon and only I have access."

Alice mumbled, "It's not that. I'm afraid to go out looking like… this." She made a vague gesture in her general direction. "I know you said the Jabberwocks mentioned a cure, but what if everyone thinks I'm turning into a monster?"

"They won't think that," Mirana replied softly, but even she wasn't so sure.

"Tarrant's whole clan was destroyed by the Jabberwock. What if he's afraid of me now?"

"No one could be afraid of a face like that."

Mirana's well-meaning attempt to comfort her Champion seemingly had no effect. Alice just hung her head, a cascade of blonde curls hiding her face.

"Please… may I just rest here for the night, where it's quiet?"

The Queen's dark eyes regarded Alice sadly. She couldn't blame the girl for her uncertainty and fear, but she didn't like how distant Alice was being. Mirana opened the door and paused. She peered over her shoulder.

"Alice? I don't know what's going to happen but I will tell you this: No matter what happens to you, you are always my Champion."

Alice's wings draped over her shoulders, trying to bring herself to sleep. Though Mirana couldn't see it, there was a faint smile on her lips.

* * *

_"It is said that such practices can bring back the souls of the dead, but to do so is strictly forbidden."_

_"Because once a soul is lost, it cannot be reclaimed…"_

_"Is that not the law of mortals?"_

_"But it is possible with this ritual… I can bring her back to me…"_

_"Majesty, the price you pay for her soul's return may be heavy indeed…"_

_"It doesn't matter."_

_"Very well…"_

* * *

Alice was jerked awake from what felt like a long dream (or a memory) when a strong smell wafted into the chamber, throwing her into a coughing fit. The morning sun shining through an open window very nearly blinded her.

"Who are you?" asked a familiar voice.

Once Alice's eyes adjusted to the light and any purple spots vanished from her sight, she was greeted by none other than Absolem, resting on the open windowsill and contentedly smoking.

"Alice," she replied, waving her claws around to keep the smoke out of her face.

"I heard you returned," the blue butterfly observed. "Though it appears you've undergone a frightening change lately."

Alice's heart sank. "People outside Marmoreal know about this already?"

"Word travels fast, whether by chatty flowers or the gossips behind the castle walls. I came right from I came right from Snud the instant I caught word of the incident."

"Ah, so that's where you've been hanging your hookah these days," Alice remarked dryly.

"And it appears you've grown a bit of an attitude," Absolem retorted, blowing a series of smoke rings. "Now. What do you plan to do?"

"Well…" Alice recalled what Mirana told her last night. "_Something_, obviously. Mirana mentioned going to the Jabberwock's roost in the Tulgey Wood. If there are answers, I might find them there."

"Are you certain? Do you trust the words of the creature that once tried to kill you?"

"What other choice is there? I certainly don't intend to turn into a monster." Alice rose to her feet and nearly tripped over her tail.

"Will you be going alone then?" Absolem asked before inhaling from his hookah.

Alice's hand froze when she reached out for the doorknob. "I..."

"There _are_ those who still care for you despite what you think, stupid girl."

"I'm not stupid! I just..." Alice sighed. "I feel as though... this is something I have to do myself."

"Her Majesty won't be pleased," Absolem warned.

Opening the chamber door, the blonde allowed herself a smile. "I'm sure I can handle it."

* * *

Mirana made her way down to the dungeon, guarded by two Knights. At her command, they unlocked the door and held it open for her.

"Should one of us accompany you?" asked one Knight.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"As you wish, Majesty..."

Mirana shut the door behind her and set her gaze, hard and cold, on the Knave chained to the wall. He looked up at her, his good eye dull and lifeless under a mane of scraggly black hair. His eyepatch was missing, showing the horribly scarred spot where an eye used to be. With each breath he took, a sickening wheezing sound issued from his mouth.

The White Queen's expression turned to a glare.

"You will tell me everything you know."

The Knave sneered.

* * *

Alice found herself standing before the stairway leading to the Hall of Doors, and felt a wave of nostalgia overcome her. Beyond that door was where she began her very first adventures in the fantastical Wonderland of her younger days fifteen years ago. Her thoughts drifted back to the world of her birth above ground, to her mother Helen and sister Margaret, to Lord Ascot, to living out her father's dream of expanding trade routes and going farther still. But she was not homesick; far from it, really. Alice found that Underland, this realm of the surreal, was more of a home to her than England ever was. She was welcome, accepted, _wanted_ here.

_But what about now?_

Her gaze drew to the dead, twisted tree beside the stairway. She stepped towards it as if by instinct, like something in the back of her mind was telling her to do so. The tree was massive up close, maybe twenty feet tall, and at its trunk were what appeared to be dozens of sutures, but taking a good look showed they were more like lower branches taking root in the earth.

Without warning the suture-branches creaked and groaned loudly, rising from the ground and curling towards the main trunk in a dozen spirals, revealing a large opening in the trunk leading into the earth. Though Alice was gripped with apprehension, there was that sense of familiarity again. She knew for a fact that she'd never known of this passageway before, but it _felt_ as if she'd been using it for centuries.

_It's not my memories,_ Alice thought firmly as she entered the tunnel. _They're the memories of the Jabberwock._

_But am I not a Jabberwock now?_

The first thing Alice noticed about the tunnel was the scent; though it was a long time since the Frabjous Day, she still recognized that smell. The Jabberwock's scent. It wasn't frumious like the Bandersnatch, but a distinctly smoky aroma, almost like burning incense over a bonfire. The smell was overpoweringly strong in close quarters to the Jabberwock, but here it was very faint and almost pleasant.

With each step into the dark tunnel, Alice found it relatively easy to see (and if she'd brought a looking-glass with her she would see a red glow in her pupils). The smell of salt water and the roar of ocean waves reached her senses. It wasn't long before she reached a great, wide underground cave with three other tunnels leading south, east, and west. Light poured in from an opening that beheld the northern sea, and at the corner of the cave's mouth there was a pile of gigantic bones vaguely draconic in shape. Skulls were littered around the sea-licked mouth.

_A Jabberwock graveyard?_ Alice figured. _Or maybe a subterranean roost of sorts?_

Slowly Alice stepped toward the nearest Jabberwock skull. She reached out to touch it and almost drew her hand back in shock when suddenly it sprang to life; muscle and skin and scales formed from where her fingertips were, and encompassed the skull until it resembled the terrible beast it was in life. A red eye popped into its socket with a rather sickening **_pop!_** and stared at her.

Alice's jaw nearly hit the ground.

The Jabberwock head opened its mouth to speak, but no sound came out. In annoyance, it stuck its tongue out at Alice, or at least what was left of it. Alice winced, remembering when she sliced the Jabberwock's tongue off. Spotting another skull lying nearby, she darted over to it (while the tongueless head decayed back into a skull) and rested her hand on it. The skull instantly came to life at her touch and gave her a dry look.

"_It's rather difficult for one to speak when one's tongue is cut off,_" it growled in a myriad of voices.

"Er, sorry?" Alice sputtered.

"_It cannot be helped,_" the head sighed. Its eyes scanned the cavern almost nostalgically. "_There really is no place like home, is there._"

Alice suddenly felt tired, a feeling of heaviness bearing down on her heart. She thought, _Sadness…? Were those my feelings just now?_ No, she realized. They were of the Jabberwock. Now that she was becoming one, Alice could feel the Jabberwocks' emotions herself; all their sadness, all their anger.

"How many are you?" Alice asked once she found her voice. "How many Champions before me have inherited the bloodcurse?"

"_…Fifteen,_" was the answer. "_You're the sixteenth sacrifice, little one._"

"…So what happens now? Mirana said that you'd reveal everything in the Tulgey Wood, and so here I am. How can I break the curse?"

"_To cure a disease, strike at the source. Long ago we were human once, and near the end of our lives. The one we trusted most used an ancient heathen ritual to save us, but it came with a price; to be immortal, so long as the one who placed the curse on us is alive. That was… the current sovereign of all Underland is Mirana of Marmoreal, correct_?"

"Yes."

"_Then it has been… ten thousand years._"

Alice gave the head an incredulous look. "Ten thousand— but that's impossible! Anyone from my world would be lucky just to be over fifty or sixty!"

"_Time and age work differently here. The days pass quickly, but the inhabitants only remain young so long as they feel young._"

Again Alice felt that heaviness upon her. It was getting slightly hard to breathe in this cave.

"_But t__en thousand years is too long for one to live, even for an Underlandian,_" the Jabberwock head sighed. "_Living underground for so long, feared and unwanted, there are so many things we've forgotten. The scent of dinner in brillig, the beauty of a smile, the feel of grass in the spring, the warmth of a lover's touch… we've even forgotten our own names…_"

_Ten thousand years…_ Alice never thought she'd see the day when she'd pity a monster like the Jabberwock, but the emptiness and melancholy in its voices shook her to the core. She would have thought immortality sounded wonderful, but if it meant watching all the people you loved grow old and die while you remained forever young, one day reaching the point where you'd forget everything you once were…? The thought very nearly brought her to tears.

It wasn't until Champion and beast looked each other in the eye when Alice realized just how _exhausted_ the Jabberwock's life force had become.

"So many sacrifices," she whispered.

"_It's so tiring. We cannot go on like this until we've become lifeless husks. The curse _must_ be broken…_"

"How can it be broken? Do you at least remember who did this to you?"

The head stared at Alice with an unreadable expression. "_Your little Queen did_," it said, "_Or her ancestor, rather. Do you know this name: Morda, the Queen of Hearts?_"


	5. Keep On Seeking

**Note 1:** Sorry for the long-ass wait! I really have no excuse other than I'm a lazy crap-for-crap. This is shorter than I hoped it would be, but things are gradually building up.  
**Note 2:** The Slender Man Mythos has had some influence in the story, and I'm oddly pleased by that.  
**Note 3:** Do not investigate Note 2 if you plan on sleeping tonight. Or the rest of the week, for that matter.

**V: Keep On Seeking**

The sneer on Stayne's gaunt face taunted the malice inside her.

_If I could sink my teeth into your eye right this instant, would you be able to stop me before I blinded you?_ The malice seemed to say.

"What is there to tell?" Stayne finally wheezed. "Surely the Jabberwock told you everything already?"

"_Not_ everything. It failed to explain how the bloodcurse may be broken."

"Pity, that."

_No,_ the malice hissed, _it's a pity I didn't take your head when I had the chance._

Mirana quelled the dark thoughts. "You were obviously after Alice; you must know _something_."

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

"Then where is Iracebeth?"

"Not here."

"So I noticed," Mirana retorted, feeling a headache coming on. _No, calm yourself. Do not let him get to you._

There was a brief moment of silence. Something in Mirana's eyes must have amused Stayne, as he made a noise akin to weak laughter.

"Do I amuse you?" Mirana said.

"Oh no, _Majesty_," Stayne spat the word out mockingly. "Your expression merely reminded me of _her_. Do you honestly think, even if I divulged all my darkest secrets, that _she'll_ let me live? After failing my mission?"

"To retrieve Alice?"

"Astute as ever. _Her_ hunger is endless. _She's_ always in need of sacrifices."

"And who is _she?_"

"_You_ know."

"I wouldn't be asking if I did."

"Don't play ignorant," Stayne snapped, struggling to his feet. "Of course you know of whom I speak. You've known _her_ forever, and so does your dear big sister. You should. _She's_ in your blood."

_…What?_

"You have no idea what's coming do you? You've cut yourself off from _her_, but _she_ still sees you. _She's_ watched over you since you and Iracebeth were still babes in a cradle. Watching, waiting, whispering. You knew _she_ was there and it frightened you, so you tried telling people about it, but they never listened, did they? Just a little girl's imagination, they said."

_Stop it._

"_She_ tried to mold you two to _her_ liking, to carry out _her_ plan. But _her_ whims were too much for a princess too young to have a concept of life and death, yes?"

**_Stop_**_ it._

"But is taking a life really so terrible, Majesty? It's ever so easy. All it takes is a little _push_—"

"That's _enough!_" Mirana hissed through clenched teeth but it wasn't her voice

_I was only a girl and she was my friend. I didn't mean to do it. I didn't know any better. The dark lady who came into my room at night, she told me to do it. I could never see her face through all that dark, dark hair. She told me to push my friend in the moat because it would make her happy so I did but it didn't make anyone happy it was a bad thing I did I **hated** it I **HATED** the dark lady but she never **left me ALONE**_

"Oh my," Stayne sneered. "I seem to have struck a nerve."

Mirana snapped herself out of her thoughts and felt a layer of cold sweat on her face and neck, her palms sticky and knuckles bulging. She took a moment to collect herself.

Calm yourself. Don't even think of it. Just forget about it.

"This is not about my childhood mistakes, Knave," Mirana said, keeping her voice level. "All I require is information about the Jabberwocks' bloodcurse, who sent you, and why."

"We've _been_ talking about who sent me. You simply haven't figured out who _she_ is, yet."

It was amazing how much someone could try her patience. "Who. Is. _She?_"

"_Queen Morda._"

Mirana's blood ran cold. Morda was a very old name in Underland; a very _hated_ name. Ten thousand years ago Morda was a bloodthirsty monarch who practiced heathen rituals, ruled the Outlands with an iron fist, and was banished into shadow by her heirs when the Underlandian Civil War was at its peak… or so scripture told. The grudges held by the now overseas kingdoms of Macelon and the Bladlands had more or less faded over the centuries, but there was still some bad blood with Adamas, who apparently took the full brunt of Morda's wrath.

And Mirana and Iracebeth were her descendants.

But that was so, so long ago…

"_She_ is very much alive, Majesty," Stayne droned. "And _she_ is bound by blood to the Jabberwocks, who will live so long as _she_ draws breath."

Which meant…?

"And if…" All the gods, just _saying_ the name left a bad aftertaste in her mouth, "…_Morda_… dies, then the curse is lifted."

Stayne clapped, slow and mocking. "Very good, but it won't be so easy. She was an immense army at her disposal, slowly amassed over the course of ten thousand years. Every last one of them slaves to her will. And just as it is with the Jabberwock, only one thing can slay the Queen of Hearts and it resides deep within her old castle in the Outlands. And only one person can use it, neither Champion nor demon. It must be someone who carries her blood within their veins."

_Blood is life. To squander it, spill it, take it without need, to partake in the consumption of lifeblood to continue one's own existence, is the greatest sin against the Dominion over the Dead and paves the way to Dominion over Living Things._

A bony hand pointed at her. "_You._"

* * *

The tower Alice spent the night in was empty, save for the lingering smell of Absolem's hookah. Mirana peered out the window and into the kingdom below. Not a sign of her.

_She will return. She always does. She made a vow._

Still, the thought of her Champion's company, no matter how enjoyable, did nothing to alleviate the weight on her shoulders.

_To break the curse and save Alice, I must break my own vows._

The very thought of it made her stomach turn. It was sickening, it was inconceivable, it was horrifying, it was…

It was incredibly enticing.

"My Queen!"

Mirana spun around, saw no one, and then looked downward at one Nivens McTwisp. He appeared even more fidgety than before, glancing at his pocket watch every few seconds.

"Forgive me, my lady, but I heard the interrogation with the Knave of Hearts ended rather abruptly. You never even told anyone of whatever you'd learned, if at all. Is everything all right?"

Mirana fought the urge to look over her shoulder and out the window. The reality of things was too great for her deal with alone, given the circumstances.

_I need help._

"McTwisp, I will need three telegrams sent to the rulers of Macelon, the Bladlands, and Adamas. A council is to be held."

"Whatever for, if I may?"

A beat.

"I fear war may be upon us."

_A great war. Many may die. Much blood may be shed. So much death. So much..._

For the first time since her girlhood, Mirana no longer felt safe in her own home.


End file.
